Page 11 of Death and Do-Overs

“Better that you waited.” Andrew lifted Nie’s head from the box, examined her neck wound, and set her gently on the table. “One clean cut. The wound is completely dry.”

How was that possible? How was any of this possible?

The air in the room grew heavier as everyone stared at Nie.

Andrew ran his fingers through her hair, checking for what, I had no idea. He cut off the bottom of a few strands of her hair and put the clippings into a vial.

“Who would do this?” Imogen asked, voice quivering.

“Someone who hates Mar, I guess,” Wendy said.

That could be a long list. It was impossible to know, as I made zero effort to appease people, less still when it came to people I didn’t actually like. That meant the list could be pretty much the entire human population minus the people standing in my living room.

“Can you tell how long ago Nie died?” I asked Andrew.

“It can’t be that long, right?” Wendy asked. “Didn’t she just leave?”

“She’s been gone a week,” I said, returning my attention to Andrew.

“I can’t be certain without testing. Magic can interfere with these kinds of estimates,” Andrew said.

Did that mean he believed there was a supernatural cause of death?

“Back to suspects.” Rose raised a hand as if that was required to speak. “Who hates Marnie?”

I shrugged.

“Someone with explosive percent road rage,” Wendy offered.

“Ooh, I know,” Imogen said. “That guy at the Burger Ruler on Third who spits in the food.”

“Tell me you’re not still eating there,” I said.

Imogen turned red. “No. I mean, not after I saw what he did to the fry oil.”

Wendy shook her head. “The spit wasn’t enough of a deterrent?”

“He didn’t spit inmyfood,” Imogen said. “He only does it when people aren’t friendly.”

She glanced at me, then away just as quickly.

“Tainting the oil, though, that hurts everyone,” Imogen said.

“Someone who wanted to adopt a pet and you said no?” Rose made a face like she didn’t believe any of these were reason enough to decapitate a person.

Some of the people who reached out about adoptions, especially since Barnacles had gone viral, were particularly ill-equipped for human interaction, let alone pet ownership.

I said, “It’s possible.”

Rose twisted her lips. “Feels flimsy.”

“It’s impossible to know who anyone is deep down, or what they’re capable of,” I said.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Imogen said. “I’ve been inside lots of people.”

A moment of silence passed as the rest of us gagged a little in our mouths, or at least that was my reaction.

“I’ve been inside you, Mar,” Imogen said.

---